by Bobbi Romans
“They didn’t even hesitate.” Grace seemed awed at the link he had with his cousins of sorts. Amused, he watched as Grace reached and gently picked one up. The thing curled into a ball, but once she brought it gently up into her arms, uncurled in tentative trust. Apparently even his little friends recognized Grace for what she was. His mate.
The moment was perfect as all became one. One with the swamp and the world that encircled its grace and beauty. Out here in the swamp as dangerous as it could be, life was simple. There were no outside confusions. The circle of life was that which it had always been. Survive. If you found a mate in the process … even better.
But as Damien glanced to the open door jamb, he knew things wouldn’t be simple for them. Trick fought for his life, Squire hid something and after all the traumas, they needed to decide whether to remain with B.E.A.R. or not.
His vote was to take Grace back to his cave where he could protect her far better. Convincing Grace of this, however, would be an up creek row without an oar.
“Hello, Grace.” The armadillos scattered, scampering back through the gaping holes in the ragged walls.
Damien jerked his attention to the door. Squire. Asshat had to ruin the moment. Sure, the magic was bound to end within a few minutes anyway, but damn. Squire couldn’t have given them one more second?
Chapter Twenty-One
Grace’s body froze within his arms. Her skin chilled even more than it already was as her gaze slid toward Squire. She eased from his grasp and rose before turning to face the man who’d intruded on their moment.
“I … how?” she stuttered as her mouth dropped open only to close and reopen again. Under different circumstances he would have teased that she resembled a guppy. Or followed his ungentlemanly thoughts when seeing those lush full lips of hers open and close. Not now though. His gut roiled and instinct told him to tread carefully or lose her forever. Something big was happening, and the fact he didn’t understand what made him all the warier.
“You’re dead. They told me you merged with the swamp creature you’d been cursed with. So how are you here? Now?”
“Grace, I … ” Squire, too, seemed at a loss for words. Damien had been content riding shotgun in the backseat of this ride until Squire took hesitant steps toward Grace and his hands reached out for her.
“Whoa there, buddy. I don’t think so.” He placed himself between them and bit back the growl his beast wanted to unleash.
“Damien, it’s okay,” Grace promised, placing a hand on his forearm, her voice barely above a whisper. She’d come from one shock and sounded as if she headed straight into another.
“Who is he to you?” Damien’s gut screamed he didn’t want to hear her answer, but his mind knew he needed to listen to the truth. And from her. Not the challenger before him.
“It’s. … Henry. My fiancé … er, ex-fiancé.”
Red clouded his vision as rage boiled over within. This man had known about Grace and had stayed mum the entire time. Damien felt played. And nobody played him.
Nobody.
• • •
Grace wished she’d had more time to think about Henry returning from the grave, but she didn’t. The flesh beneath her palm hardened and she thought she heard a hiss even as she stared at Henry, whose pupils suddenly went oval as his eyes drew to slits. Damien, who stood before her one second, launched airborne the next in one swift move into Henry … whom he’d called Squire. The world splintered as the massive men flew into the dilapidated wall and the rotten wood disintegrated around them.
A loud splash and Grace ran to the old dock to try and find out where they’d landed.
“What the hell is going on now?” Beth hollered, stomping her foot from the other side of the dock. Then her niece caught sight of her running out onto the dock. “Grace!” Beth screamed her name before she beelined toward her. Beth had taken only a few steps when one of the boards gave way and she nearly sank in the water and muck. Moss grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to shore before anything more than her feet hit the water.
“I’m fine, stay there,” Grace yelled across to Beth and Moss before searching the water frantically for the dueling men.
Both rose out and Grace realized they’d gone into their animal counterparts. Or as much as she supposed either did. Squire’s eyes looked lethal in appearance but held no candle to the predatory viciousness that damn near glowed from Damien’s. His lips drew back and the snarl turned into a loud roar. She’d never experienced such helplessness as she did then.
“No! Please stop!” she begged, though neither even so much as flinched. Water splashed and swirled around as the two men lunged, bashed and punched one another in the territorial battle.
Damien’s arm flew from the water and arced as he brought his fist down into Henry’s jaw with a sickening thud. She watched in horror as Henry’s hands rose from the murky waters to display talon-like nails. Frozen, she watched shocked to the core as those talons flew across Damien’s now exposed chest. Screamed when a crimson stain spread slowly across the top of thick swamp water. Still neither man paused in their assault on the other. She was relieved to notice that where she’d thought gaping wounds would appear from the slices, only minimal scratches were visible. Memory skirted back to something Moss mentioned. Damien carried traits of his soul creature, the armadillo. He’d inherited armor it appeared.
More shouting, more curses.
What played before her seemed more a death match than any sort of standard fight.
Bones cracked, flesh slapped the water, and she feared what lurked beneath it waiting for a chance to strike the men battling above. Gators thrived in the area as did water moccasins.
Something large bobbed to the surface just behind the men and she squinted to make out whether a limb or a gator. Finally the rough, bumpy snout of gator distinguished itself. The thing was massive — at least seventeen feet — and she couldn’t see the entire length. A monster among gators and heading straight for the men. Yeah, they might have animal strengths and qualities, but against the massive beast, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Especially unaware of the approaching danger.
She yelled a warning as two more green bumps emerged on each side of them. Neither man noticing the arrival of more predators. The men rolled as though already in a gator’s jaws, yet she knew they weren’t. Not yet anyway.
Desperation made her turn to beg for Moss’s help. She thanked the fates she didn’t have to ask. The large man was already diving into the water. Glancing over to Beth, she saw the fear on her niece’s face and guilt set in. Beth’s fiancé endangered himself because of an event she set in motion.
If anything happens to Moss …
Both men had again disappeared beneath the stagnant water. Moss surfaced once or twice without coming up with either of them, and panic set in that they were too late. That in their need for bloodshed the gators had taken them. As if in slow motion, she became aware of Beth screaming for Moss as he came up empty handed again. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids as she leapt into the water, no longer able to stay out of the fight and not caring about any critters lurking nearby.
Popping to the surface, Grace gulped a deep breath before someone grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and hauled her out of the water. After being unceremoniously dumped on the ground at Beth’s feet, Moss dove back into water.
He hadn’t made it two strokes when both Damien and Henry breached the water’s surface, both riding the backs of gators.
She may not be cursed with any animal soul, but she didn’t need to be to feel the shock from the gators’ as they jumped and swished their bodies madly back and forth in an attempt to dislodge the men riding them. Never before had she witnessed anything like the craziness before her.
“Get your ass back up here,” Beth admonished to a weary looking Moss. Her niece flung herself into the giant’s arms and held him tight before pulling him to the ground and sitting on him, swearing he’d better not think about heading back in the water.
Grace sat in the mud that surrounded her. Both men were safe and the overwhelming weight of the knowledge that mere days ago she’d had an idea which direction her life headed and now as she sat stinky and muck covered, she didn’t know her ass from end.
Damien and Henry skulked in her direction, stopping just shy of where she sat. Confused and awkward in her own skin, her sudden uncertainty rendered her immobile. Both clearly sought something from her, but she didn’t know how to answer. Hell, she didn’t even understand the question. “Thank God everyone is okay.” Beth started sounding clunky while trying to change the atmospheric gloom around them. Moss shushed her and gently pulled her away from them. Somehow her niece’s he-man understood the unspoken mystery of her situation. Had put two and two together and figured out the panic attack s headed her way.
“Grace, we need to talk,” Henry started.
“I’m not sure we do, Henry … er, Squire I should say. Correct? Your new name for your new life? Must be nice just to create a new one. Good for you.” Yeah, maybe her voice did hold a bitter edge. But damn it. That’s what came out. She’d pined for years over him. Worried he’d died in gruesome fashion. She’d been relieved over the rumors he’d been cursed and chosen to become his inner animal rather than some cross between. But that hadn’t been what happened. He’d simply picked up and gone on without her. So that’s exactly what she did now. Picked herself up, brushed her ass off and stormed over to where their vehicles should be parked.
“Grace, please let me explain … ”
She whirled around. Gone was confusion. Now she was just angry.
“Explain what, Henry? How I wasn’t enough for you? How fighting for me, for us, wasn’t what, a worthy enough cause?” Hysterical? Yeah. She didn’t care.
“She’s been through enough for one day. Back the fuck off.” Damien stepped in front of Squire and laid a firm hand on his chest. The thump echoed where hand met chest. She thought for sure Henry was about to attack when she caught the nasty look he shot Damien, but he must have thought better of it as he knocked Damien’s hand off and stormed away.
The tears came then. She couldn’t have stopped them had she wanted, so she turned and climbed into the back seat of the vehicle before her. Whose vehicle didn’t matter.
“Are you alright?” Beth asked quietly, sliding in next to her.
“No.” Truth.
“Everything will turn out okay. I promise. You’ve been through a lot. You need rest.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Look, you’re going to hate this, but we are much closer to B.E.A.R than your cabin. We’re heading back there.” When she went to protest, Beth held up a hand. “You can get a shower and some sleep and when you wake up, we can head back to your place.”
As much as she didn’t want to go anywhere near anyplace having to do with Henry, she was exhausted and filthy. A hot shower sounded like heaven.
“Okay. But tomorrow we go home.”
“I promise. Scout’s honor.” Beth put her hand over her heart before embracing her in a heartfelt hug. “We were so worried.” She saw her niece glance over in Damien’s direction. He stood outside the vehicle speaking heatedly with Henry. Moss appeared to be attempting to play referee between the men. All at once they stopped and Henry jerked open the driver’s door, snapped his belt and slammed his door closed. His lips were pursed as if fighting to keep from saying something. Moss came and scooted in next to her, and Damien slid into the front passenger seat. He, too, appeared to choke on words that wanted to tumble forth.
The ride back to B.E.A.R. was unbearably quiet.
Her own thoughts veered to Damien. Why hadn’t the man said something to her? She’d jumped into the water willing to die to protect him and he’d not uttered a real word to her since returning to land. Had he had a change of heart about their relationship? Did something happen when her magic unleashed and the bomb went off? Maybe he’d remembered about the magic and decided she was too much trouble.
So many things swirled in her mind. But the sudden distance from Damien shattered her more than anything else in her life ever had. She felt it deep in her soul.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Damien hadn’t wanted to, but after careful consideration of Moss’s suggestion, agreed with Squire to give Grace some space. She’d been through being kidnapped, thinking she’d killed everyone and then the sudden shock of seeing her dead fucking fiancé return from said dead. Now wasn’t the time to demand she chose who she wanted to be with.
It seemed he and Squire had reluctantly agreed to a stalemate of sorts. Even so, Damien parked a chair outside of Grace’s room. Didn’t trust the bastard’s word he’d steer clear of her.
Damien kicked back on the chair legs and shut his eyes. These last hours were more than torturous. Not knowing if Grace was dead or alive. Much as he wanted to be angry at her cold shoulder, deep down he could admit he didn’t entirely blame her. She had a lot of heavy emotional baggage going on all at once.
He understood her confusion. Prayed once she’d slept a good night’s rest would come to her decision with a clear head and heart. Hoped beyond hope her choice led her to back to him. Her uncertainty ripped straight through his heart. Hell, his soul felt wounded like the bomb had exploded within.
What the hell can I offer other than my love?
Squire owned a freaking luxury compound filled to the brim with the most advanced security equipment and even designer furniture. The entire place was customized. By all appearances the man had the power to give Grace whatever her heart desired. Would be able to give her everything she deserved and more. Was he being a selfish bastard to linger and make her choose?
“Hey, buddy. How you holding up?” Moss stood before him holding out a bottle of water.
“Hanging in.”
“You look like shit,” Moss joked, but his voice held a hint of concern.
He’d grown close with the man as of late. The closest he’d found to a true friend in, well, far too long.”Thanks … ditto.”
“Yeah, been a rather bitch week hasn’t it?” Moss mumbled.
“Damn straight it has.”
“Dude, relax. She loves you. Even I can see that … ”
Before he finished his sentence, Beth strode out from across the hall, purse slung over her shoulder and appearing pretty weary herself.
“You ready?” she asked, passing by Moss to come over, lean down and hug him. “Everything will work out, you’ll see. Trust your instincts, Damien.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before turning back to Moss. “We really should get going to the hospital.” Her voice grew grave as did the expression on her face.
“What’s up? Has Trick’s condition changed?” Damien felt like a heel. He should be down by the kid’s side instead of sitting here like an overzealous boyfriend. He started to rise when Moss placed a staying hand on his shoulder.
“Yes. Unfortunately he took a turn for the worse. But he’s in ICU and they are only letting one visitor in at a time considering he still hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“We’re heading down more in support of Lily than anything else. Poor thing has refused to leave the hospital for any reason. Apparently if not for Trick covering her with his body, the shrapnel he took would be in Lily,” Beth added, shaking her head lightly. “Kid was a true hero. And here I thought, well … ”
“We’d all wondered about his loyalties, Beth. But we took him in anyway.” Damien rubbed a hand through his hair. Damn but things continued to become ever more twisted and fucked up. Poor kid had wanted nothing more than to fit in and he’d given him grief. If the kid pulled through, he’d find a way to make it up to him. Beth was right. Trick was a hero. Not only had he survived being kidnapped and God only knew what else by the Society, but now had taken a so-called bullet for Lily.
“Stay here. You can’t help Trick right now. We’ll keep you posted as we hear anything. Watch your girl and keep an eye out for Squire. I’m not sure I trust the g
uy.” Moss warned before turning to follow Beth.
Damien nodded. He didn’t believe a damn word Squire uttered either, but without proof and with Grace so fragile at the moment, he didn’t want to cause any more drama.
Beth and Moss disappeared down the hall and questions raced through his mind. Curious why and how Squire could have stayed away from Grace all these years and why the man was lying. Dude definitely was. Damien just wasn’t sure about what. This coupled with the extremes over the past few days versus little sleep, he drifted off.
Damien awoke to the sounds of voices. Loud and arguing. He sat the chair down on all fours as quietly as possible and glanced at his watch. He’d slept through the night. He prepared to barge in when the arguing stopped. He did something he’d never done before and wasn’t proud of. Tried not to, but failed miserably. He listened outside the door not giving a damn what it might look like to any watching the halls from the security room.
“Yes, I loved you. I mourned for years over you. When you disappeared, a part of me died. A part that’s never come back.”
Damien’s heart plummeted hearing Grace’s heartfelt confession to Squire, especially when his advanced hearing caught the slight hitch in her voice.
“I never meant to hurt you. Quite the opposite, Grace. I steered clear for you.”
“You abandoned me, for me. What the hell kind of sense does that make?”
“I wasn’t the same man you were betrothed to. I was a freak of nature, no longer entirely human. I thought it best … ”
“You thought it best. What about what I thought? What I wanted? Did you think so little of me as to truly think any changes in you would have made a rat’s ass? That I would love you less because you’d been attacked and cursed by an evil bitch?”
Damien smirked when her voice rose to a near hysteric but highly pissed sounding level.
Give him hell, love.
“No, you twisted my words. I meant I dreamt of more for you. I wanted you to have an easy life. Without problems. A large house, white picket fence and two point five kids.”
